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<title>handle me by witchertrashbag (intothegarbagechute)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404123">handle me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothegarbagechute/pseuds/witchertrashbag'>witchertrashbag (intothegarbagechute)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wine Aunt Smut Asks [19]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:49:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothegarbagechute/pseuds/witchertrashbag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Look this was the prompt:<br/>Could we please have some Geralt/Lambert Masturbation please? Maybe Lambert teasing Geralt from his room. Saying his name and trying to get Geralt to come to him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Lambert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wine Aunt Smut Asks [19]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>160</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>handle me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s rare that Geralt will randomly run into one of his brothers while they’re on the Path. Rarer still that they have cause to stay the night at the same inn, drinking in the pub until their coin purses grow light.</p>
<p>Lambert lets his mouth run, like he always does, with or without drink. By his sixth ale, his smirks and winks grow needier. Geralt feels his boot between his legs, feels the heat of his gaze in their dark corner, and somehow feels bare already, knows his eyes are already dark, irises blown wide.</p>
<p>So Geralt swallows the rest of his ale and stands. Lambert stands, eagerly, follows Geralt up the stairs… where Geralt turns and decisively says, “Good <em>night</em>, Lambert.” He shuts the door, latching it, and takes a deep breath.</p>
<p>That is… something they do, they’ve <em>done</em>, but not out here, not on the Path, where human eyes and ears are watching and listening and judging. Lambert must be getting restless, reckless as always. Geralt sets down his weapons and begins to unbuckle his armor, knowing he’s done the right thing.</p>
<p>And then he hears it.</p>
<p>It’s the softest moan– no one else in the inn could pick it out over the clatter of plates being washed, patrons still clinking and drinking below. Only a witcher’s ears could discern the soft, breathy gasps of a man touching himself.</p>
<p>And Lambert knows it. Heat rises deep within Geralt. He finds himself half-dressed and yet too dressed as he sinks onto the lumpy bed, his trousers quickly growing too tight.</p>
<p>“<em>Oh, gods,” </em>he hears Lambert again, clear as though he’s breathing into his ear, although it’s from the room next-door. Geralt closes his eyes and he can almost smell him, the thick musk of Lambert, of the sweat dried along his lightly hairy inner thighs, the sweet, heady scent at the crook of his hips–</p>
<p><em>Fuck.</em> Geralt opens a window, letting cold air pour inside.</p>
<p>He hears Lambert chuckle softly.</p>
<p>“Too much for you, Geralt? Can’t handle it? Why don’t you come over here and–” he chokes out a soft moan– “<em>handle me?”</em></p>
<p>Geralt inhales sharply at the challenge and clears his throat.</p>
<p>“You want me to beg? I’ll beg, only for you.”</p>
<p>Geralt just sits there and breathes, desperately trying to will his dick down, when:</p>
<p>“<em>Oh, oh fuck, please, please, let me hear you.”</em></p>
<p>Geralt involuntarily <em>growls</em> as he shoves his hand down and grabs his cock. </p>
<p>“<em>Good, oh fuck that’s good, fuck, Geralt, please, more–”</em></p>
<p>Geralt hates how much it affects him but he begins tiny pressing strokes as he can, shivering slightly from the cool air and the sounds next door, how reckless and wanton Lambert is being. He can picture the smirk on his face, how powerful he must feel over Geralt, especially when:</p>
<p>“<em>Oh, Geralt, fuck– you feel so good.”</em></p>
<p>Geralt knows there’s only one way to take back the power. He’s on his feet, through the door, and in Lambert’s room in a dozen long strides.</p>
<p>He does not expect to find Lambert on his hands and knees, oiled fingers in his ass, his trousers pulled hastily down over his hips.</p>
<p>And from the look on his face, Lambert didn’t expect to see him, either. Especially not flushed, bare-chested, and hard.</p>
<p>Geralt swallows hard, his cock moving at the sight of him, and sits. And somehow finds it within him to whisper:</p>
<p>“You were saying?”</p>
<p>They’re both trembling as Lambert continues fingering himself, watching Geralt slowly unbutton his trousers and bring his cock out, trying to be casual as he grips the base and his balls, watching Lambert.</p>
<p>Lambert presses back against his own fingers and grins when Geralt lets out an involuntary groan. Lambert starts moaning some soft, needy whines, putting on a little show, relishing what it’s doing to Geralt, the little moans he’s making as he strokes himself, his thighs spread wide.</p>
<p>“<em>Oh, Geralt, </em>you look so– so fucking filthy touching yourself like that, so needy, so worked up just watching me like this– bet you wish your fat cock was down my throat right now–”</p>
<p>Geralt makes a most inelegant, desperate sound as he comes in his hand against his bare chest, face flushed from the shame of it, body burning from the pleasure, all the way deep in his core. He grips himself through it before he sucks in breath and sits back, and sees Lambert on the bed, still, his cock red and needy and untouched.</p>
<p>“You like this, don’t you?” Geralt asks, his attempts at dominance breathy and uneven. “F-<em>fucking yourself like that? Squirming on your fingers?</em> You gonna come without even touching yourself?”</p>
<p>But it does the trick– Lambert chokes out a moan and shivers, quickly grabbing his cock, stroking hard and coming quickly onto the bed with a:</p>
<p>“<em>F-fuck, Geralt– oh fuck you–”</em></p>
<p>Geralt grabs a cloth to clean himself, dropping it onto the floor and tucking his overstimulated cock away with a wince. He comes close to Lambert, who’s still sweaty and messy on the bed, leans in close… and throws a clean cloth in his face.</p>
<p>Lambert lays back on his elbows, breathing hard, his bed filthy, and hears the door close behind Geralt.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Originally posted to <a href="https://witchertrashbag.tumblr.com/post/614056579705225216/first-time-monday-has-ever-been-fun-could-we">witchertrashbag</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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